


first time

by Skyuni123



Series: pacific rim uprising was pretty gay y'all [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Coming Out, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, First Kiss, Pacific Rim Uprising, my baby lesbians i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: Amara and Vik, the aftermath.





	first time

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey so i can't remember amara's canon age, but her actor's 18 so she's 18, and vik's 20. we cool? we cool.

After they’re finally back from Mt Fuji, and after she’s undergone way too many tests and doctors sticking her with needles (she’s  _ fine,  _ honestly!), Amara’s finally allowed to see her team again. 

And what a reunion it is.

Vik is the only one there, getting resoundingly drunk in their quarters.

 

“Where’s everyone else?” Amara says, throwing herself onto one of the beds with a sigh. She’s  _ exhausted.  _ Every muscle in her body aches. It’s a good ache, though. It’s a ‘saving the world’ ache. She could get used to this. 

 

“Sleeping.” Vik shrugs. “Maybe. They might be drinking somewhere else. I sat down and could not stand up again.” She takes another sip from the bottle.

 

“Tired?” Amara asks, crawling to the end of the bed to watch the other woman closely. “Or have you just drunk too much?”

 

“Smalley, I have been drinking alcohol since before you were born. I am far from being… uh… how do Americans say it... OTT?”

 

“Okay.” Amara shrugs, happily, not wanting to argue and reaches her hand out for the bottle. “Can I have some?”

 

Vik pulls it away from her with a practised flourish. “And how old are you exactly?”

 

“Not that young!” She protests, “Just because I look like a kid doesn’t mean I actually am! I’m eighteen, Vik.” 

 

“Really.” Vik looks her over with a glance that makes her feel a little hot under the collar. “Are you sure about that?” 

 

“Cross my heart. I’ve drank alcohol before!”

 

“This would be illegal in your country.” Vik replies, pointedly, but hands her the bottle anyway.

 

The vodka is stronger than she’s used to and it burns its way down her throat. She coughs, and scrunches her face up at Vik’s triumphant look. “I’ve definitely broken like 10 PPDC rules  _ today.  _ At least. Drinking alone is bad, anyways. You shouldn’t do it.”

 

“Fine, smalley,” Vik takes the bottle back and says nothing more about it. 

 

She’d hated the nickname at first - had always seen it as a reduction of her worth, like Jake was treating her like a kid or something. However, it had grown on her. Jake wasn’t deliberately being mean, or anything, and it wasn’t the worst nickname in the world.

Speaking of Jake…

 

“Where’s Jake at?”

 

Vik rolls her eyes, “With Nate. I heard many sounds when I was passing Jake’s quarters, so I think they may be  _ working out their differences.”  _ The way her voice lowers at the end of her sentence suggests… mischief. She slugs from the bottle again and wipes her mouth off. 

 

Amara blinks. Jake… and Nate… Together? “Um…”

 

Vik sighs again, “Please tell me that you are not a homophobe, smalley. I was actually beginning to like you.”

 

“No, no, of course not, I’m the furthest thing from it!” She yelps, waving her hands frantically, “I just didn’t expect it! They seemed so… antagonistic.”

 

“Love can grow out of the worst disagreements.” Vik says, placidly, and waves a hand. “My father’s brother Vadim found his husband in politics. They spent a lot of time arguing over policy and then-”

 

“Love grew?” Amara blinks, feeling slightly dizzy.

 

“Yes.” Vik’s smile is wicked. “And other things.”

 

“...yes.” She swallows. The room suddenly feels very hot. 

 

“Why ask about Jake? You are attracted to him, da?” Vik, in an uncharacteristic show of politeness, passes the bottle back. 

 

Amara takes a swig before answering. It’s not really the kind of question that she’s used to. In fact, it’s not really the sort of thing she’s ever had to tell anyone. “That’s… uh… not really my area.”

 

Vik raises an eyebrow. Cooly. Considering. “Are you gay, or do you not at all?”

 

She swallows. Her throat suddenly feels very dry, despite the vodka. “...Gay.” She’s known it for a while, had easily fallen into it the first time she’d seen Sasha Kaidanovsky in action, but actually saying it out loud is new. People don’t tend to give a shit about who you like in the scavenging world. 

 

“Interesting.” 

 

“How so?” She takes in a shuddering breath, feeling oddly exposed. Vik’s eyes, though slightly unfocused from the alcohol, seem to lock onto hers. 

 

“I am, as well.”

 

And suddenly, with a rush of memories from the drift, Amara realises she  _ knows.  _ She hadn’t really thought about it at the time - because the pending apocalypse was a bit of a distraction - but now…

The taste of dirt and blood under her tongue. Of fingers wrapped around scruffy hair, backed into the wall behind bike sheds. The softness of the skin on a back, an inner thigh, fingers sliding towards-

Amara clears her throat, heat suddenly pooling in her stomach. “You’ve had quite a few… experiences.”

 

“Yes.” Vik waves her hand for the bottle.

 

She passes it to her weakly, fighting hard against the urge to linger. The Drift… it’s weird. It bleeds. It makes you think things you shouldn’t want to think. She hadn’t really noticed it before - the sharp planes of Vik’s jaw, the way her throat moves when she swallows, the softness of her skin - but now’s another story. 

Vik takes another swig, and puts the bottle down on the floor. She swipes her tongue over her upper lip unconsciously, and Amara can’t help but follow the movement.

The alcohol’s beginning to hit now, and she really shouldn’t stay here. It makes her want things she shouldn’t want - to reach out and touch this woman who she loathed with the fabric of her entire being a short time ago. Bad judgment. Bad call. 

She stands up from the bed, and nearly stumbles over her own feet. Yeah, this is why drinking spirits on an empty stomach is a  _ bad  _ idea. “I’ll just. Go. Um. Yeah.” 

 

She’s halfway to the door when Vik says, “Come sit down, smalley.” 

 

“That seems like a very bad idea.”

 

“I don’t bite people unless they want me to, Amara. Sit.”

 

And yeah, her legs are feeling a bit heavy, and standing up seems like a really shitty idea… but this? Whatever  _ this  _ is? It makes her nervous.

It almost makes her more nervous than piloting Gypsy Avenger did, and that was the scariest thing she’d ever done. 

But she’s used to ignoring scary things by now. She’s built her life around it.

 

So she sits down opposite Vik and grabs the bottle, drinking to calm her nerves. It really doesn’t seem to help. 

 

“Why are you shaking, smalley?” 

 

In all the confusion she hadn’t even been aware that she was. “I don’t make a habit of it.”

 

“Tell me why.” Vik’s gaze is dark. Curious. Staring at her is not the worst thing in the world, though maintaining eye contact certainly is. 

 

“I just-” Amara stops. Hesitates. Decides to go for it, because hell, what does she have to lose? She’s just helped save the world. “You’re very pretty and I’ve never really done this before because hell, when would I have and I would really like to kiss you but I don’t know-”

 

The rest of her sentence is lost to a whoosh of breath when Vik puts a finger against her lips.

 

Her skin is even warmer than Amara remembers.

 

“Relax.” Vik cups her face, and looks at her with an expression that she can’t quite decipher. “I will help.” 

 

And then she kisses her, and it’s like Amara’s in the Drift all over again.

 

Everything’s lost in a rush of sensation, a ghost of a memory she’s never truly experienced. It’s like she’s kissing Vik and she’s Vik herself at the same time, fingers digging into her scalp and tracing over the back of her neck where the skin is thinnest.

They meet and they meet again and she’s not even sure who she is any more. She’s sat in Vik’s lap before she even realises she’s moving, her hands rising to her head and tangling in the short strands of blonde hair at the base of her scalp. She tugs a bit, dragging out a gasp from the other woman.

 

It almost feels better than fighting.

 

Vik pulls away, lips kiss-swollen and eyes gleaming in the dim light. “You are a wild girl,” she crows, with obvious delight. 

 

“Sorry.” Amara mutters, and buries her face in Vik’s neck. It’s hard to meet her eyes. It’s weird, this kissing thing. She likes it, yeah, definitely, but damn, it’s  _ weird. _

 

“Do not be sorry, smalley.” And then Vik nudges her back so she can kiss her again.

 

Yeah… Amara could get used to this. 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up at the [ tumblr ](http://villainousfilmmaker.tumblr.com)


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